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Joanie Wicker | The Wicked Witch of the West (wickedwicker) wrote in bellumlogs,

Her eyes widened as Ella mentioned stealing clothing. "You what?" she asked, staring at her blankly. "Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?" she hissed, not realizing that everybody that wasn't her didn't have the convenient option of turning snow into warmth. As she mentioned getting killed, Joanie grit her jaw grimly. "Not gonna happen. We're all in this, right? Nobody's dying."

As she mentioned her tale, Joanie wrinkled her nose. "Mine mocks my pain and asks me why I'm not better at everything," she said bitterly.

"I do not, you're being-"

"Not now!"

At the question, she wanted to laugh at how ridiculous Ella's inquiries got - clearly they were for comic effect - but she sobered when she recalled that yes, she had done something. A lot of something. "I..." She cringed. "Might have completely changed the clothes Sam and I were wearing." She paused. "And I made us hats." Facepalming, she sighed. "I'm retarded," she groaned. She decided not to mention Shere Khan at the moment. That would get them nowhere fast.

When she asked about Luther, she cringed. Though they had clung to one another for warmth the night they arrived, they weren't exactly on good terms at the moment. Even when they were being friendly that night, there was a tension there that only two friends quietly feuding could create. "We, uh," she started awkwardly, unable to hide the fact that this was clearly not the best subject. "Didn't talk much," she said. "I was in shorts and a T-shirt, so I was freezing and not really...you know. Articulate. The second we got to the barn, I made everybody some warmer clothes and immediately passed out." She decided not to mention the fact that his gun now scared the shit out of her, and she wouldn't want to touch it with a ten foot pole.